This
morning, as I was putting my grocery bags into my car, a man walked up
to me and said," I just watched you walking to your car and noticed
how skinny you are ... you OK?"

"I'm fine; it's the stem cell
transplant/chemo diet." He was very kind and genuine, and wished me the
best. I'd never seen the man before, it was just a random act of
kindness.

Random acts of kindness can come from anywhereOn
Halloween while at my local oncologist's office, a young girl walked up
to me and gave me her favorite piece of candy from her trick-or-treat
bag.

In Houston, Wade and I were trying a new Mexican restaurant
for breakfast, and there was only one other English speaking couple
there. The woman came up to us and recommended what we should order,
which turned out to be great!

By the end of our meal she had given me her business card and offered to help in any way we needed.

I
received a beautiful, handmade prayer shawl from a stranger. Then my
mother-in-law's brother, whom I've never met, gave me his wife's
scripture quilt (she passed away from cancer).

The greatest gift of allI consider all of the cards, prayers, gifts, calls, food and blog comments to be random acts of kindness. But the most amazing, ultimate, random act of kindness was the person who donated the stem cells for my transplant, anonymously. Wow!

I can't put into words how this made me feel.

Thankful, grateful, loved, lucky, blessed, all seem inadequate.

It's the ultimate act of kindness to give part of yourself to save a stranger's life!

Thank you, donor. I don't know you, but I love you.

I could go on with my personal experiences with random acts of kindness, but the guy who spoke to me this morning made me think about what a huge difference the little things make to those of us with cancer.

It's easy to get into a funk when you are sick, weak and tired, and you start to feel detached.